Missing Scene from the Great Gatsby
by olegnAiDociN
Summary: An English assignment that I decided to share with all you nice people! Basically, the missing conversation between Jordan and Gatsby at Gatsby's party in Chapter 3.


** Hello! So basically this was an English assignment we had, and the assignment was to write a scene from The Great Gatsby that had been mentioned but not shown. The choices were Daisy and Tom's argument in Chapter 1 when Myrtle calls, Gatsby asking Jordan to talk to Nick about Daisy, and Gatsby and Daisy's private conversation when Nick invites her over to his house. I, as you will see, chose the second option and I think I did pretty well. This is the first thing I've ever uploaded, so be gentle, I guess? It's pretty short anyway. Hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Great Gatsby, as I am definitely not F. Scott Fitzgerald. Also, the very beginning and end are directly quoted from the book and I do not own them either! **

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"Miss Baker?" Gatsby's butler inquired. "I beg your pardon, but Mr. Gatsby would like to speak to you alone."

"With me?" she exclaimed in surprise.

"Yes, madame."

She got up slowly, raising her eyebrows at Nick in astonishment, and followed the butler toward the house. He led her through a labyrinth of halls and winding staircases, until they came to a stop outside of a grand set of solid mahogany French doors. Through the doors, she could see an elegantly furnished patio, and a man. His back was turned to her, his gaze fixed on the horizon. She instinctively knew it was him- Gatsby. Even without seeing his face, he gave an air of strange superiority. His mere presence made you believe he was a part of something greater, as though he had some optimistic strength of will that was beyond comprehension.

The butler swept open the double doors for her, and, with a smoothness only one as self-possessed as she could exhibit, she strode onto the patio.

"You called?" She grinned at him, flopping onto a couch and stretching out, cat-like. He didn't turn at her voice, simply stared out at the docks in the distance.

"Are you enjoying my little party, old sport?" he murmured distractedly, and Jordan was struck with the distinct feeling that his thoughts were farther away, contemplating some marvelous occurrence that was far beyond her.

"Oh, yes. I'm very much interested in you, . Everyone is." she replied, her voice trailing off hesitantly. "I assume there's some… other reason you asked to see me?"

At first, he was so still she wondered if he had heard her, but then he began to drum his fingers on the rail and spoke again.

"Of course, Miss Baker. I believe your curiosity in me will be… satiated by the end of our time here. You see- I need to ask you a favor, old sport, and… well, you'll need to learn a bit more about me." Jordan sat up on the couch stiffly, crossing her legs.

"Is that so?" she asked, her interest piqued.

"Yes, you see, I happen to know a friend of yours, from way back- Daisy, Daisy Buchanon." He said her name reverently, cherishing each syllable as though caressing the word. He turned suddenly, and Jordan found herself immediately transported into memory. She knew that face; older now, yes, but she _knew._ Her mind traveled to Louisville, October of 1917, and a little white roadster parked outside of Daisy Fay's house.

"I remember now! You were Daisy's lieutenant boy, weren't you?" she gasped, disbelieving. Gatsby just smiled that kind, disarming smile that had to power to absolutely enchant anyone he aimed it at.

"So you see, then, do you? Daisy- she…well, I would very much like to meet with her again." He turned back towards the water, once again staring out as though seeing through the lighted docks to the people behind them. Jordan began piecing together the story in her head; rifling through memories and picking out which ones seemed to fit.

"I need you to speak with Nick Carraway for me." Gatsby declared. It sounded like some kind of confession.

"Why Nick? I could-"Jordan began, but Gatsby cut her off, his voice clipped.

"No, no, just Nick, see, he's my neighbor, and I need- well, if you'd be so kind- you could, you could explain, and convince him to invite her over-for, for tea, and I can come, and then-" His faltering words stopped then, as though he hadn't given thought to what would come next and was struck with a sudden fear of it. His awkwardness and fumbling alarmed her. Gatsby was larger than life, almost like a story rather than a man, and watching him struggling was like being disillusioned with a god.

"Of course I will, yes." She said hurriedly. "Don't you worry, I'll take care of it. Daisy… she deserves this, something good." She stood from the couch with a smile.

"Miss Baker, I'll let you know when to speak with Nick, but for now I trust that this will… stay between us." He smiled sheepishly. Jordan nodded in affirmation, grinning delightedly at him.

Hurriedly, she gave the man a parting hug, and left. As the butler escorted her back to the party, everything around her felt surreal; she could hardly believe that their conversation hadn't been some distorted day dream, a twisted falsehood of her own making. Catching Nick's eye, she pulled him aside and whispered, "I've just heard the most amazing thing. How long were we in there?"

"Why- about an hour." He replied.

"It was- simply amazing," she repeated abstractedly. "But I swore I wouldn't tell it and here I am tantalizing you." She yawned gracefully. "Please come and see me, I'm in the phone book- under the name of Mrs. Sigourney Howard, my aunt." She was hurrying off as she talked, and she waved her hand in a jaunty salute as she melted into her party at the door.


End file.
